The Warriors of the Walls

A Match Waiting to be Lit

KENNY

The rabble below began to swell with pent up violence, and discontent as the illustrious Commander Erwin Smith was shoved into the carriage and taken away at haste in a shitty attempt to defuse the situation, a situation that had the bastards below listened to the orders I had directly given wouldn't have been happening in the first place.

What a shitshow.

One would think an MP commander would know how to discreetly arrest and imprison a fellow commander, but no, it seems I have to micromanage everything because I'm surrounded by dumb fucks.

Rod owes me a raise.

"What do we do?" Caven drawled as she took in the rising hysteria below with apprehension, though this was nothing compared to the starving crowds in the underground; if anything, this was a picnic in comparison.

"Nothing. The commander played his hand, true it has kicked up a stink, but it's all for jack shit. Once his royal highness pulls his finger out and returns the power to its rightful place, all of this will be nothing more than a bad dream." I smiled broadly, causing her face to scrunch up in disapproval, for we both knew that I was exempt from that ole' chestnut, "Well for you at least."

"And until then?" Craven pressed with her hand, gesturing to the simmering pot boiling below, none too relieved by my soothing words and I rolled my eyes in exasperation, "are we meant to let this unrest grow unchecked especially with Sparhawke still on the loose? What if she uses this like Erwin clearly intends? Then there is Captain Levi to consider-"

"Has anyone ever told you that you worry too much?" I mocked condescendingly as I brought my finger up to trail across her face, causing a shiver of barely concealed disgust to run through her body, "It will put lines on that pretty face of yours."

Grin growing wider at her obvious discomfort, I turned my gaze back to the crowd below that was slowly but surely dispersing into smaller, more manageable groups; however, the tension caused by Erwin and his big mouth still hung heavy in the air, a match waiting to be lit if the wrong, or dare I say it, the right person was to strike it.

What are the chances Craven is right...?

Narrowing my eyes, I pondered on the possibility of that person being the Sparhawke bitch like Craven had said, like Erwin probably intended. If my intel on her was correct, then she was undoubtedly reckless enough to try it, but Levi wasn't and the way the runt had his hands on her ass last time I saw them then there was no way in hell he was letting her out of his sight. Besides, by all accounts, the redheaded whore had lost her damn mind when her brother died, even seen wailing like an animal in her nightdress in Trost Barracks courtyard in the dead of night. Sure, she was seen slaughtering my men, but what else could be expected from a mad dog? No, whatever Erwin had intended, this wasn't coming from her; likely, he was just trying to buy himself time for Levi and his nutjob second Hange to go and get him.

Well played Erwin, almost had me chasing the wrong little bastard.

"The Sparhawke bitch won't do anything without the scouts giving the order, and their time is up," I stated confidently; even mad dogs know who holds their leash, "sure she has Levi and his group protecting her, but they are all alone and cut off from their entire regiment. They have no support, and when they show their heads again, which they will, we kill them. Problem solved. Now stop getting your panties in a twist and gather the troops; we ride for the Reiss estate within the hour."

Nodding solemnly, Craven gave one last look to the street before shooting her hooks and swinging away, leaving me to preside above the rabble below like a king on his throne, a smile pulling my lips thin as the nets began to tighten on my prey and I took one step closer to my actual goal.